


Hands spread wide, sand slipping through my fingers

by thepatchmatrix



Series: Calluses [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Kinda, Light Angst, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26454466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepatchmatrix/pseuds/thepatchmatrix
Summary: Nothing is right and his crew isgone.He's just found them, is finally with them and now? Now all he can do is plan against the future and follow his instincts.Jinbe will not let a bout of death and time travel keep him from his family.-----Jinbe's perspective fromI know you from the state of your hands.
Relationships: Jinbei & Iceberg (One Piece), Jinbei & Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates, Jinbei & Neptune (One Piece)
Series: Calluses [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818064
Comments: 16
Kudos: 303





	Hands spread wide, sand slipping through my fingers

**Author's Note:**

> So here's Jinbe's perspective from the first story. As I mentioned previously, I wasn't sure where jinbe was going to be when I first started writing, and when I tried to add his perspective, it didn't mesh well. I couldn't get it reworked to a point where I was happy with it, so I decided to pulls his perspective all together.
> 
> I wanted to do Jinbe Justice, so here is his perspective from _I know you from the state of your hands_.
> 
> Hope you like it!!

Pain is spreading across his body like wildfire and he wants to scream, cry out a warning to his crew because _this is not right!_ They are nowhere near the Marines, the last base left behind islands ago and the ocean clear around them. So where did this volley come from? And how did they see him, a lone fishman in the middle of a vast sea?

Then, he’s sucking in a deep breath of air and coughing away blood that no longer fills his throat. He’s moving forward again, limbs loosened from their frozen posture. He’s spilling tea from limp fingers onto a familiar floor.

And he’s slumping forward into friendly arms.

A voice, distant but growing louder.

“…inbe! Jinbe!”

He coughs again, trying to focus past the burning in his chest, in his side? A hand curls around his shoulder, fingers spread across his back, supporting him as he tries to catch his breath. Air burns in his lungs.

“Jinbe!”

He finally lifts his head, the pain in his chest fading, manageable enough for him to push away the panic and fear and finally see his surroundings.

Neptune, his liege and friend, is staring at him with wide eyes. The room is empty, as it usually is during meetings between the two, but something is off, beyond the obvious and sudden change of scenery.

“Ne-Neptune,” he gasps out, patting him on the wrist, “I am alright, old friend.”

“You’ll have to try harder for me to believe that, jamon,” Neptune says, even as he pulls back. His hand is still wrapped around his shoulder, but it’s less clutching and more supporting. Jinbe finds himself leaning into the embrace, too tired to care for pretenses. There are so many more important things to deal with right now.

Most importantly, the concern on his King’s face.

“I truly am fine,” Jinbe assures as he forces himself to take a deep breath past the pain in his chest, “Just…startled.”

Neptune sits back, leaning against his throne and finally pulling his hand away from Jinbe, “What is so surprising about the day-to-day reports that you freeze for a full minute?”

Everything is very confusing and Jinbe’s not sure what’s going on. This isn’t an afterlife, he knows that. Unless something has radically changed in the last weeks, his King is still alive and they would not be talking about the day-to-day if he’d just joined him in death. But, going from dying, alone in the middle of the New World, to gasping in the throne room of his home island is not a situation he’s prepared for.

So he looks for more information.

It starts with the most obvious. Neptune looks the same as the last time he saw him, if slightly less worried. The perpetual frown is still there, but the furrow on his brow is lighter, not the deep crag that characterized their stay under Big Mom’s protection.

Next is the room. Again, nothing looks different. The floor and walls and throne are the same as always. But…the marks left over from the Strawhat’s visit are missing. Gone are the faint slices from Zoro’s swords or the stains from the feast after their defeat of Hody Jones’ men.

Things are coming together to an impossible conclusion. And there is only one way to confirm it.

“This will…sound odd, your Majesty,” Jinbe takes a deep breath and asks,” But what is the date?”

The world falls apart as Neptune speaks.

Time travel is _not_ what he was expecting when he woke up this morning.

They sit in silence for a long time. Jinbe can feel his friend’s eyes on him, hears as the other shifts, prepares to speak, and decides against it. The quiet is awkward in a way it hasn’t been in years. Tension builds until, finally, it is unbearable.

“Are you from the future?” Neptune asks as Jinbe says, “I think I’ve come from the future.”

They stare at each other for another minute.

“What?” Jimbe asks, stunned.

“Time travel,” Neptune begins, “is not beyond the realm of possibility, jamon.”

Jinbe knows his mouth is hanging open, but he can’t find the brainpower to close it. He just stares at Neptune in shock.

“Of course, I’ve only heard of jumping forward. Did you eat a Devil Fruit or did someone send you?”

“Aah, no. I don’t know how I got here,” Jinbe manages to answer, “There are Devil Fruits capable of time travel?”

“Do you remember the woman who travelled with Newgate for a year? The one with the odd speech, jamon?” Neptune asks, leaning forward with a faint smirk.

It was a long time ago and Jinbe had been a kid, just starting his training with the Royal Guard when Whitebeard had brought a new Commander to the island. Kozuki Oden had been a character and Toki, his fiancé, had been extremely kind, if more than a little weird.

“Are you saying…”

“Yes,” Neptune nods firmly, smirk growing, “She was from centuries past, jamon.”

This time, Jinbe stops his mouth from dropping open in shock through sheer willpower. Neptune is taking too much pleasure from his surprise. Instead, he affects an annoyed countenance.

Neptune laughs anyways. Jinbe joins in for a moment before they both sober.

“So, you are from the future, jamon. And from your reaction, it was not a nice time?”

Jinbe shakes his head, “It was not as bad as it could be, but not great either.”

He explains, as best he can, the events leading up to Marineford and the Paramount War. He talks of Whitebeard’s death, the deal with Big Mom, the return of the Strawhats and they’re actions on the island. And he talks about Luffy’s question and his own response.

Neptune gives him a soft smile, “You’ve always hated the spotlight.”

Jinbe can’t agree more, “Yes, I never wanted to be a Captain. I just wanted to do my job well.”

Neptune sighs, “Well, I can’t say we won’t miss you, jamon.”

Jinbe doesn’t have the energy to pretend he doesn’t know what Neptune is talking about, “There’s much we need to account for before I can join my crew.”

“We’ll figure it out, Jinbe. You don’t need to handle it all by yourself, jamon. But first,” Neptune leans forward, picking up Jimbe’s spilled teacup from where it lay forgotten on the floor, “I need something stronger than cold tea.”

~*~

They don’t tell the Sun Pirates everything. In fact, most of the Sun Pirates have no idea that anything has changed beyond Jimbe stepping down as Captain. Aladine, as the new Captain, is given a bare-bones explanation, which he takes with more grace than either of them were expecting.

“You’re favoring your left side and I can see a new scar on you neck. Something crazy happened and I really don’t need to know the details,” is Aladine’s only comment before turning the conversation to the shift in leadership.

They also discuss his position as Warlord. Having the position was an advantage that had lessened more and more over the years. With Whitebeard’s power firmly in place, the position wasn’t vital to their survival. It was only after the death of Whitebeard and the change in protection that the position had borne any fruit. And that was tentative at best.

In all honesty, they could do without so long as they had enough power to defend themselves. And Jimbe knows exactly where to find that power.

It takes a few days to iron out a plan, but in the end, they have a solution that solves a whole slew of future problems.

They begin with an outreach program for the Fishman District. A large portion of their people have been ignored for far too long. From there, they offer a place in the guard for those who want it. For others, they create apprenticeships, start training programs, even offer places on the ever-expanding Sun Pirates crew. They will not leave anyone behind, not anymore.

This leads to Hody Jones and the New Fishmen Pirates. Without the anger and hopelessness, there will hopefully be less Fishmen willing to fight under his banner. Anti-human sentiment is rampant and with good reason, but people will have more control over their futures and a better chance to defend themselves. They hope the words of Hody Jones will fade out in the face of real change. Why follow a man preaching unmitigated hate when a chance to do something tangible and forward thinking is presented?

Hody and his commanders are immediately placed under watch. They will give them a chance, but it will be a careful one.

Then there is Arlong and the other Fishmen taking their pain out on the world around them. They’ve been left to their own devices too long. The moment Jimbe mentions their old crewmate, Aladine sends out a squad to bring their wayward brother home.

None of them blame him for his anger and hate. Most of the Sun Pirates barely tolerate humans on a good day, but they know the difference between dealing with a world that hates them for who they are and making the world hate them for their actions. Revenge is well and good but taking it by becoming the monsters the humans say they are doesn’t help.

And so, after a week spent in meetings and deliberating, Jinbe finds himself back in the throne room, tea in hand and room empty excepting Neptune before him.

“You still haven’t told me about your Crew, jamon,” Neptune says in between sips, “I’d like to know who made you come to your senses.”

Jinbe sends his king a flat look before pointedly taking a long pull of his tea.

Neptune throws back his head and laughs, “Then I’ll keep my expectations open. Make sure to introduce me when you go to the New World.”

Jinbe smiles.

~*~

The swim is long.

Jinbe has trained all his life and worked to push his limits in the uncertainty of the Grandline, but the sheer tedium of avoiding Sea Kings and humans has him bored out of his mind by the end of the first day.

He takes to talking to the passing schools and pods. He spends a few hours in the company of some spirited dolphins, taking in the gossip surrounding the newest pirate crews. They’re nothing special, the last being Ace and the Spade Pirates two years past.

It had been a shock when the Supernovas of the Worst Generation burst onto the scene. Usually one or two supernovas would appear at a time. Rarely would they make it long in the New World. Usually, they died out or were captured long before they could make any impact.

Then came Luffy and his contemporaries and their world-shaking powers.

Now, the most interesting news comes from a feeding frenzy near the southern edge of Paradise. A mass grave, quickly consumed by thankful and voracious sharks from a calm section of sea is interesting, but not truly noteworthy in light of the people he’s searching for.

(He still makes a note to steer clear of the area for the foreseeable future.)

When he makes it to the edges of the Florian triangle, he pauses for most of a day.

Everything in him says he should go in and grab Brook. The man is a little unhinged and needs all the help he can get, and Jinbe’s heart breaks at the idea of leaving him behind. But, his instincts are also shouting at him in a way he can’t disregard. Something in the mist is waiting to devour him and, predator or not, he knows when to run away from a fight. He’s not strong enough to face this danger alone.

So, heart heavy, he turns away and continues forward.

~*~

Iceberg is still in his office despite the late hour. His secretary is missing from her desk, though from what he’s been told of the Strawhat’s early adventures, Jinbe knows she’s not far. He could sneak in, keep to the shadows and be mysterious, but he has a feeling the Mayor has enough on his plate. Instead, he just knocks on the door.

There’s a brief rustle of papers and a light groan before a quiet, “Come in,” sounds out.

Jinbe only pulls the door open enough to slip in before closing it carefully behind him. The walls may have ears and the less he disturbs them, the better. He turns, finally catching sight of the man Franky has said so much and so little about.

Franky occasionally waxes on about his past, talking of his work on the Sea Train and of his beloved Mentor, Tom the Shipwright. While never a Sun Pirate, he’d designed Fisher Tiger’s first ship even while working on under the watchful eyes of the government. And he’d proudly worn his tattoo isn solidarity, adding elements to it in his last years of life to mirror that of the brand on Jinbe’s chest.

(Never let it be said that the World Government did not understand exactly what was on Tom’s shoulder when they condemned him.)

Alongside the stories of the man who was more a father than anything, there were inevitably mentions of his brother in all but name. Iceberg had been an overbearing older brother that, as Franky would sometimes reflect, “has too much responsibility for that much anxiety.”

Looking at the man now, eyes half-shut and a piece of paper stuck to his face from the massive pile covering the even more massive desk, Jinbe thinks he understands what Franky was trying to say.

“You’re Iceberg,” he says in lieu of a proper greeting as he moves to stand in front of the desk.

Iceberg nods and yawns, the piece of paper fluttering to the floor as he stands in greeting, “Yeah, and you’re Jinbe, Warlord and Leader of the Sun Pirates.”

“That I am,” Jinbe suppresses his own urge to yawn. It really has been a long day.

“And I suppose you’re here for something? Maybe a new ship?” The businessman in Iceberg is taking over, straightening his spine and sharpening his gaze. His hands immediately locate a pencil and blank paper. He moves around the desk, positioning himself better to draw and show Jinbe the draft as he builds it.

Jinbe shakes his head, “No. As wonderful as the ships produced by Water 7 are, I am here for a more….time sensitive reason.”

Iceberg’s hands still from the draft they’d started crafting. He turns and looks up, eyes piercing as he stares Jinbe down. It’s almost as icy as the man’s name.

(If Jinbe were any less a predator, he might have been cowed by the ferocity in the man’s posture. Instead, he’s starting to see the older brother in the anxious man.)

(Franky had a hell of a childhood if this was one of the men responsible for raising him.)

They watch each other in silence for a tense moment.

“What does the name Franky mean to you?” Iceberg asks, spine mast-straight.

“What does the name Thousand Sunny mean to _you_?” Jinbe parries.

There is no relaxation in the other man. In contrast, he goes still, almost holding his breath as he pales.

“It’s not just him, is it,” Iceberg breathes.

“No,” Jinbe shakes his head, “No it’s not.”

There’s a slight tremble to the hand Iceberg covers his face with, “I’d—I’d hoped he was just having a very weird dream, but I guess this is better? He’s not alone?”

Sorrow pours off the man. Jinbe steps forward and lays a hand on his shoulder.

“No, he’s not.”

Sobs break past the hands and Iceberg leans heavily into his grip, almost falling to the floor as he cries.

They stay like that for a long time.

No more words need be said about the connection between them. After Iceberg pulls himself together, they spend the rest of the night talking about their respective families. They’re sat on the floor, backs pressed against the desk in relaxation and glasses of brandy in hand. Jinbe talks about some of the more chaotic adventures the Strawhats encountered and Iceberg shares embarrassing stories about a young, tiny Franky.

It’s when the sun is peaking over the horizon and oozing lines across the carpet that Jinbe asks a question that’s been bugging him since he realized Franky wasn’t on Water 7, “How did Franky leave the Island? Did he steal a ship?”

“No, no,” Iceberg shakes his head, clearly amused at the notion, “I gave him the Adam Wood to rebuild his Sunny.”

And that brings up so many more questions. Clearly, Iceberg sees them on his face as he continues, “I’d hoped it was a dream, but I didn’t want him haring off with what he could scrape together. I’d rather invest in the man he can be than loose him to my own disbelief.”

Something dark and grieved crosses Iceberg’s face as Jinbe watches him. It’s old and he has a feeling it has more to do with experience than imagined possibilities.

“As for rebuilding the Thousand Sunny? Well, if there’s any man that can remake a ship in her true glory, it’s that crazy bastard.”

Jinbe lifts his glass in a silent toast and Iceberg responds, clinking their glasses together.

He leaves in the morning light with a new friend at his back and smile almost as bright as the future before him.

(And later, if he hears about more and more fishmen finding employment on the surface, of a Mayor that’s spit in the face of the government restrictions forbidding hiring Fishmen? He makes sure to send a letter of introduction for Iceberg. He’ll need to meet Neptune eventually.)

Onward, he swims.

~*~

He’s getting closer to Reverse Mountain when he feels the change in the Sea. Something big is happening and he can feel it resonate in his _bones._

A current, not unlike a tsunami, sweeps towards him. It’s all he can do to brace, to hold himself steady at the Sea sweeps toward him.

As a Fishman, as a warrior, the Sea has always been his companion. Never loving, but never hateful. Always present and sitting at the back of his mind like a friend he sees everyday but never talks to. He expects nothing of it and gives all he can back.

So when the current breaks around him, funneling and creating an almost suction effect that pulls him forward faster then he’s ever moved? He can’t help but smile and laugh and give his everything to swim just that bit faster.

~*~

He sees the familiar bulk of Laboon first.

Laboon is an oddity, an island whale on the wrong side of the Redline. He’s heard the story, of a crew that made friends with a baby whale and how they’d tried to leave him in the safety of the West. He’s heard about the promise, all but broken by the dangers of Paradise and the terrible, killing mist of the Florian Triangle. And he knows that Brook is the only living member of the cursed crew.

Next, he sees a yellow underbelly, the mass overtaking the not inconsiderable size of the oversized Island Whale. A presence resonates outward, the ancient certainty of a being that knows more than any living being possibly could. Sea Kings always have a sense of wisdom and knowing to them, but this one…

There is something different about this Sea King. It feels like the darkest depths, like swimming down to the deepest edges of the seafloor.

And he’d done that once, gone past the edge of the shelf Fishman Islands sits above. Fishmen are made for the depths, able to withstand pressures that kill anything from the surface. But the edge, the dark that falls to the center of the world, is a terrifying sight.

It had been on a dare, a stupid game he played before he knew how much the world truly hated him and his kind. He’d been so young, so naïve to the world, but looking down, down, _down_ , into that impossible abyss, he’d felt something reach out and look back.

Look too long into the void and, inevitably, the void will look back.

(He’s never truly recovered from that unrelenting, heart-stopping _fear_.)

There is a sense of that same, inexorable knowledge sitting at the edges of his senses as he focuses on the Sea King in front of him.

It takes the urging of the currents around him to turn his attention away from the predator in front of him and towards the two tiny ships floating alongside the behemoths.

The bright yellow of the Polar Tang is a surprise. He’s known, somewhere in the back of his mind, that it was likely that the Heart Pirates had been pulled along into whatever crazy naturally surrounded the Strawhats, but the confirmation still startles him. Reaching out, he can feel the sub is empty, so he turns his attention to the other ship.

The Thousand Sunny feels just as bright and happy, if a little different, than the last time he’d seen her. And has it really been so long? It feels like his death and reemergence in the past was only yesterday, but it’s been at least a month. Or more? Time is a construct that doesn’t feel as real as before and he knows he’s not the only one who feels untethered.

(Maybe it’s the isolation of his swim? He hopes so. This is not a reality he wants to live for much longer.)

He can taste the honey sweet of his crew’s presence on his tongue, mixed with the metal tang of the Heart Pirates. They’re happy, each of them bouncing around the deck or calmly sitting to the sides. And at the front is the brightest spot of all, a presence so large it rivals the Sea King when he focuses on it.

He swims fast, reaching the side of the Sunny as he feels his Captain stand, anticipation radiating off him. And who is he to make his Captain wait?

He climbs quickly, hearing his Captain speak to the crews as he eases up from the water. There is a tense silence as he reaches the railing.

He can’t help but smile as he pulls himself into view and takes in the stunned, ecstatic faces of his crew. He gazes at all of them for barely a moment before meeting eyes with Luffy. The man is standing, hands on his hips as he grins at the Helmsman. Jinbe’s own smile grows victorious.

“Sorry I’m late, Captain.”

**Author's Note:**

> (This took me way longer to edit and post than I anticipated. I had this written before I finished posting the first story, but then I managed to injure my wrist and, since I have to type a lot at work, it took a while to heal. )
> 
> So, is it just me, or do Jinbe and Iceberg give off the same cool older brother/weird uncle vibes alongside the Dadness? Because the potential of a friendship hit me like a seatrain and I am now fully onboard.
> 
> Thanks for reading!! I hope you liked it!!


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